


Where the Hope Runs Out

by just_kiss_already



Category: Doctor Sleep - Stephen King, The Shining - Stephen King
Genre: Blood and Gore, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Incest, M/M, dan is an adult if that helps, yes there’s something wrong with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:08:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22150804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_kiss_already/pseuds/just_kiss_already
Summary: At the Overlook during the events of Doctor Sleep, Dan confronts the ghost of his father, but the hotel has a new way of torturing him.
Relationships: Dan "Danny" Torrance/Jack Torrance
Kudos: 33





	Where the Hope Runs Out

**Author's Note:**

> Abra didn’t call for Dan right away, he still had lots of time. Meanwhile I’m going to hell, oh man...

Dan closes his eyes, lets the gathering tears spill from under his lashes, and when he looks up again the bartender is gone. The bourbon is still there, the glass next to it with the last drops of a shot gathering in the bottom. Dan licks his lips to check, but no, he did not drink. 

Standing on shaky legs, he takes a few stumbling steps but his strength returns as he makes his way to the bathroom.

It’s garish orange-red with accents of white, blinding after the dark golden light of the ballroom. He doesn’t remember this room from his childhood but it still gives rise to some emotion, a nameless dread. There are cloth napkins in the recesses above the sinks, grey with dust. He came intending to find something to dry his face but the thought of these dingy napkins touching his skin makes him ill. Instead he wipes his tears away with his sleeves and stares at his reddened face in the mirror. He leans on the counter, moving closer to his reflection, and thinks about his mother, about Hallorann, about Billy, and wonders why he doesn’t see echoes of them in his face. Instead he just sees echoes of his father.

Turning away, Dan starts to leave but pauses at the doorway, putting his shoulder against the wall and sagging, giving himself a chance to feel the full weight of his exhaustion. So long. So long he’s been fighting these same ghosts. Since he was little. A whisper in his mouth suggests it might finally end tonight and he hopes it’s right.

A heavy arm presses against the back of his neck, shoving his face against the neon red wall, pinning him in place as the corduroy-covered elbow grinds into his jaw, bourbon a stinking cloud around them. He expected something like this, is almost glad for it. Maybe this will be when he exorcises the most terrifying ghost of all.

“Danny boy,” Jack snarls in his ear. Jack this time, not some weak lookalike ghost going by the name Lloyd. No, this face is the right one. “What should be done with Danny, huh, pup? What the fuck should be done?” Dan tries to reply but Jack shoves harder, pressing his entire body against him, squeezing the breath out of his lungs; Dan reaches his right arm back to try to grab at his father’s elbow, get him to release the pressure on his ear and jaw, but Jack uses it as a chance to bounce Dan’s head off of the wall, dazing him. “All grown up and still chasing after me. Bothering me. Being a goddamn nuisance.”

Gasping for air, Danny fights his mounting panic. It’s just like when he was a child. These ghosts are not pictures in a book, these ghosts grasp, they hurt. He remembers sitting in his father’s lap and asking if he was going to hurt him and his mom. Jack had been so angry, said no, but that was a lie. He was always so angry, even before the hotel. This is too much, he’s not ready for this. His childhood is flooding his mind. “Dad-“ he wheezes. “Please-“ The tears are back, spilling endlessly down his face.

Jack lets up the pressure slightly and Danny sucks in a grateful breath. “I know you have a plan in your little fucking head, but what would you do if we didn’t let you have your way? Huh? Cry about it? Run to mommy? Maybe I’ve got a better plan.” His tone changes, turns slick and oily and wheedling, and the weight against Danny’s back shifts, giving rise to a new kind of panic. Jack leans in closer, his voice almost a whisper in his son’s ear. “You think I don’t know what you did? A drunk, worse than I ever was, sleeping on the streets. A goddamn bum. And the things you did for a few bucks, for a bed for the night-“

“No!” Danny pleads.

“You’ve been bad, Danny boy, and I think you need a talking-to.”

Sharp teeth clamp down on Danny’s ear, agony, he hears the click of molars, and he howls in pain. But it’s nothing compared to the hand rubbing at his stomach, pulling at the hem of his flannel. He wants to scream but he can’t, his voice is gone, so instead he softly cries, feeling like a terrified and confused child again. 

The smell of bourbon intensifies, it’s choking, dizzying. Rough hands meant for hurting paw at the front of his jeans, squeezing his dick, too rough. No, no, no, his father never did this, this isn’t fair, the hotel isn’t allowed to make it worse like this, this is cheating. Jack grinds Danny’s face against the wall while he works his hand past the waistband of his son’s jeans. Callouses scratch delicate skin and it’s strangely sticky. That’s when Danny smells the iron stink of blood, sees the gore-coated axe where it’s been carelessly tossed by the door. On him, the blood is on him, someone’s blood and little bits of shredded flesh and clumps of hair with the scalp still attached, and meanwhile he’s getting hard against his will.

NO.

With every last ounce of his hard-won dignity, from the depths of his battered soul, Danny pushes back. Pushes away.

The bathroom is empty. The smell of bourbon and blood is gone. Dan rubs at his cheek, feels the imprint of corduroy.

A question, no words, just the sensation of confusion and concern. Abra in the car. She must have felt Dan’s push. He sends back a soothing feeling, unsure what to say. There’s nothing to say. Not for the first time he wonders if this plan will work, or if he might finally be consumed by the ghosts of his childhood after all.


End file.
